


Tickets for Three

by lady_needless_litany



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, M/M, Poorly Written Flirting, Unrealistic amounts of blushing, Victor can't cook, implied ot3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 01:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_needless_litany/pseuds/lady_needless_litany
Summary: Chris is visiting St. Petersburg, so Victor and Yuuri take him to the ballet. Of course, asking Victor and Chris to behave themselves for longer than a few minutes is... less than successful.





	Tickets for Three

**Author's Note:**

> Written for YOI Advent Calendar 2018, Day 7: ballet tickets
> 
> I’ve never been to St. Petersburg, so I apologise for any inaccuracies. This is set in early October, which doesn’t coincide with the posting date but does make more sense (I think) regarding the figure skating competition calendar.

“Don’t forget that we’re picking Chris up from the airport tomorrow!” Yuuri called through to the living room, where Victor was clearing the dinner table.

Victor walked into the kitchen with an armful of placemats. “What time?” he asked.

“About lunchtime. He messaged both of us with the flight details earlier, but I don’t remember exactly what time it is.”

“We’re ready, right?”

“Yeah. The guest bedroom’s all set up.” Yuuri’s family would have been proud — over the last few days, his lifelong training in hospitality had kicked in and he’d cleaned and tidied their apartment from top to bottom. “It’s great that Lilia got us those tickets, too.”

Victor nodded. “Chris mentioned that he’s always wanted to see a Russian ballet.”

“I’ve been to a couple of ballet productions,” Yuuri said thoughtfully. “But only in America. You?”

Laughing, Victor said, “Well, Lilia made sure that I attended enough to fully appreciate the art. She’s made Yurio go a couple of times.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at the mental image of a stropy Yurio sat next to an expressionless Lilia.

He changed the subject. “When did you and Chris first meet?”

“I…” Victor tilted his head, searching his memories and drawing a blank. “Honestly, I can’t remember. He’s a couple of years younger than me...so I guess we must have met when he was in the Junior division and I’d just moved into the Senior division.”

“Yeah, that would make sense.”

“Not sure when we actually became friends, though,” Victor added.

“So have you-” Yuuri was embarrassed to ask, but he was also dying of curiosity. Had been for a while. “Have you and Chris ever-”

He broke off, frustrated that he couldn’t just spit it out, cringing at the way the words mangled themselves into a stumbling, naïve mess.

“Have we...what?” Victor raised an eyebrow. He could guess where this was going, although he didn’t want to be the first one to say it, especially if Yuuri’s mind was on an entirely different page.

“Slept together,” Yuuri finally blurted out.

Aha. Well, he’d been right, at least.

“Yes,” Victor answered plainly. He and Yuuri had always prioritised honesty; besides, it wasn’t worth lying about. He was confident enough of their relationship not to worry that this revelation could damage it.

Yuuri’s eyes widened. He suspected that was less shock in the answer and more the fact that Victor hadn’t tried to skirt around it.

“Really? When?”

Shrugging casually, Victor cast his mind back across the years. “I’d guess that it was about five years ago,” he speculated. “It was after a competition. I’d gotten gold and Chris had gotten silver and we were on top of the world. There was champagne afterwards, and — well, you know how Chris can be after too much champagne.”

Yuuri turned red at the reminder. The very thought of it made him wince and want to hide.

He pushed the mortification out of his mind and refocused on their conversation. He could recall the rumours and the gossip that had surrounded the pair several years ago. He wondered if that was around the time it had actually happened or if the press had been predictably late on the uptake.

“Just once, then? Not that I’m prying,” Yuuri reassured him. “I’m not offended or jealous or anything. I was just wondering.”

Victor nodded understandingly. “Yes, just once. But what brought this up in the first place?”

“Oh, I was just thinking. You guys have that kind of chemistry, you know?”

Victor quirked an eyebrow. “‘That kind of chemistry,’” he quoted.

If it was possible, Yuuri turned an even deeper shade of crimson. “Yeah,” he said. “You know… you’re just — like that. Totally comfortable with each other.”

“We’ve known each other a long time,” Victor said. “The sex probably helped, but we’ve always been competitors first and friends a close second. We’ve been part of each other’s lives for years.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Why the sudden curiosity?”

“Not sure.” Yuuri shrugged. “Would you do it again?”

“If you’re curious about what it’s like…” Victor’s sly smile was countered by a wiggling eyebrow, the innuendo clear.

Yuuri burst out laughing. “No, no, no! I’m not adventurous enough for that!”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “You can be quite a handful when you want to be.”

* * *

“Chris!” Victor waved his arms madly. “Over here!”

A blond head turned towards them, breaking into a smile. Chris looked as relaxed as Yuuri had ever seen him — his hair was fluffed up and his clothes were simple, although he still pulled the ensemble off with style and a hint of _je ne sais quoi._

“Victor!” he exclaimed, pulling the other man into an embrace and winking over Victor’s shoulder at Yuuri as he did so. “Yuuri,” he added as they separated. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem,” Victor answered. “Thanks for coming to visit.”

Chatting nineteen to the dozen, the three of them made their way to the car. Noticing the size of Chris’ bag, Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh — he and Victor were truly made of the same stuff; they seemed to need a month’s worth of clothes to make it through a week.

They drove straight to the rink. Chris insisted on it.

Mila was on the ice when they walked through the door, running through her short programme. Yakov was observing, eagle-eyed, while Yuri and Georgi leaned against the railing. She landed her last jump with only a slight wobble — then the music spiralled into its last few chaotic notes and began to fade. She was breathing hard, but spotted the trio almost instantly.

“Chris!” she called across the room. “It’s good to see you!”

At her words, Yuri and Georgi came toward them, the latter fist-bumping Chris. Mila was hot on their heels, throwing her arms around Chris. Yakov followed at a more stately pace, a few steps behind them.

“Giacometti.” Yakov greeted him with characteristic brusqueness. “Katsuki mentioned that you were coming.”

“It’s good to see you, Yakov,” Chris said, beaming as if he’d been welcomed with open arms.

“Hm.”

Mila interrupted Yakov’s disapproving harrumphing. “How long are you here for? A week?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re staying with Victor and Katsudon for a _week_?” Yuri scoffed. “Good luck.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll survive,” Chris grinned. “I’m more than a match for them.”

Mila smiled wickedly. “I wouldn’t be so sure, they’re almost as bad as Georgi and Anya were.”

Georgi brought a hand to his heart, as if wounded. “Don’t remind me.”

“I-”

“Enough gossip — back to work!” Yakov barked. The skaters made various faces of displeasure, but complied under Yakov’s sharp gaze.“And you two-” he swung around to face Yuuri and Victor. “Don’t think that this is an excuse to slack off.”

With a mixture of good-natured exasperation and amusement, Victor rolled his eyes. Yuuri on the other hand, nodded respectfully. “Of course not, Coach. We’ll be here tomorrow at the normal time.”

Yakov snorted disbelievingly. He liked Yuuri — the Japanese skater was certainly far more polite and dutiful than his own students — but he struggled to believe the he could overcome the combined reluctance of Victor and Chris. “Now, unless you’re going to do something useful, get out,” Yakov grumbled,

“Sure thing.” Victor wrapped an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and began to steer him away. “See you tomorrow.”

“Nine a.m. Sharp!” Yakov called after them.

Chris chuckled as they walked out. “Is he always that bad?”

“Yakov?” Victor asked. “Yeah, but it’s all because he wants us to succeed. Pissed me off when I was a teenager, though.”

“I can imagine. You were a handful back then.”

“He’s a handful now,” Yuuri commented.

Victor lifted his hand from Yuuri’s shoulder to ruffle his hair. “Only for you.”

Chris mimed vomiting. “Mila was right. You two are as saccharine as they come.”

* * *

 Victor was clattering around the kitchen, pulling out every pot and pan they owned.

Chris and Yuuri were on the sofa, ostensibly watching the news but expending more energy on trying not to cringe at the sounds drifting through from the next room.

Chris shuffled a little closer. “Yuuri,” he whispered, almost nervously. “Did Victor learn to cook at some point? Because… the only thing he’s made that I’ve eaten was a biscuit, and that was burnt to a carcinogenic crisp.”

“Uh… he makes great poached eggs,” Yuuri offered weakly, trying his hardest to be kind to Victor.

Chris wasn’t fooled. “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’”

“To be fair, I cook most of the time. I mean, I like doing it, so it’s not usually an issue.”

“Right.” Chris grimaced as there was a particularly loud _clang_. “Do we have a Plan B?”

“Yeah. Plan B is the stew I cooked and froze yesterday.”

“Bless you, Yuuri.” Chris flopped back, relieved. “You’re a textbook husband.”

“Fiancé,” Yuuri corrected him automatically. “But thanks.”

“Ah, you two are practically married already. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous.”

Yuuri ducked his head self-consciously. He was saved from having to reply by the sudden silence. They waited a heartbeat, nervous.

“Yuuri....” Victor stretched out his name in the way that he always did when he wanted Yuuri to do something for him. It was the verbal equivalent of batting his eyelashes. “Could you come here for a second?”

Yuuri heaved himself off the sofa.

Half an hour later, they sat down at the table to warm bowls of beef stew.

“Smells delicious,” he complimented. “If you ever have a change of heart, Yuuri, I’ll happily marry you.”

From anyone else, the comment might have been uncomfortable. But from Chris it was harmless. Endearing, even.

So when Victor contested him, it was playfully, not defensively. “No chance of that. I called dibs already.”

“Nope,” Yuuri contradicted. “I’m pretty sure that I called dibs on you. I bought the rings.”

“True, true.”

They fell into a companionable quiet that was interrupted only by the sounds of cutlery on crockery.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Chris asked, draining the last few drops from his bowl.

“Victor and I have to skate in the morning,” Yuuri answered. “I’m sure Yakov won’t mind if you want to come for that. Then touristy stuff in the afternoon — maybe the Fabergé Museum?”

“Sounds great.”

“Don’t forget the ballet,” Victor interjected. “Tomorrow evening.”

Chris’ eyes widened. “Really? I’ve always wanted to go to a ballet here. What show is it?”

“The Nutcracker,” Victor supplied. “I know it’s supposed to be a Christmassy thing, but it’s a classic.”

“No problem. I’ll crack your nut anytime,” Chris joked with an exaggerated pout.

The other two men groaned. “That’s not even a good joke.”

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding at all sorry. “I couldn’t help myself.”

* * *

The performance was scheduled to start at 19:30. To avoid another attempt at Victor cooking, they went out for an early dinner. They all found themselves pleasantly surprised by how easily conversation flowed — there was never a lull or a dull moment.

However, Victor was still Victor, so they were almost late to the performance. Yuuri and Chris — the first trip for both of them — barely had a chance to take in the grandeur of the Mariinsky Theatre before they were being hushed and the lights were being dimmed.

The music swelled and the curtain rose, sending them tumbling head-first into fantasy. Yuuri found himself utterly absorbed, his heart keeping time with the orchestra.

The interval came much too quickly.

They’d pre-ordered three glasses of champagne, with which they retreated against a wall.

“You’ve seen the _Nutcracker_ before, right?” Yuuri asked Victor.

“Mm-hm. Three or four times at least. It’s one of Lilia’s favourites.”

“Wait,” Chris said. “Did she literally force you to come when you were a kid?”

“Yep. She used to threaten me with extra ballet practice so that I wouldn’t complain.”

Chris laughed. “Insane.”

They continued chatting, Victor relating the various things that Lilia coerced him into during his teens. At some point, they finished their drinks; Victor collected their champagne flutes and went to return them to the bar, leaving Yuuri and Chris people-watching in the corner.

“You know, Yuuri,” Chris slid his hand down his arm, suggestive but not intrusively so. “Victor’s a lucky man.”

Typically, Yuuri wasn’t one for excessive physical contact, unless it was with Victor or Makkachin. He surprised himself at how relaxed he was with Chris; perhaps it was because he knew it meant nothing, or because he knew that Chris would never try to come between the pair of them, even if his flirting had some meaning. He certainly never tried to hide it. Indeed, his friendship with Victor seemed built on it.

“No, I think I’m the lucky one,” Yuuri sighed lovingly. “He’s everything I could ever dream of. More, sometimes.”

“Maybe,” Chris said. “But have you seen yourself? Not just in looks, although you’re absolutely stunning. But your skating? And your general wonderfulness as a human?”

Yuuri was at a loss for words, as he often was when he received compliments. He’d never quite worked out how to respond properly. “I mean…”

Victor returned then, wrapping an arm around Chris’ ribcage. “If you’re not careful,” he teased. “I might get jealous about the way you’re flirting with my fiancé.”

Chris, the inveterate flirt, played along easily. “Oh, really? Are you going to stop me?”

“You two are going to get us kicked out if you keep talking like that,” Yuuri warned. “Keep it PG.”

They obliged, stepping away from each other. A bell chimed, letting them know that the interval was nearing its end, so they made their way back to their seats.

* * *

 “That was fantastic,” Chris said, effusive, in the taxi home.

“It was amazing,” Yuuri agreed, Victor nodding alongside him.

They were still talking about it when Victor unlocked the front door and let them into the apartment. As his excitement began to settle into tiredness, Yuuri yawned. “I’m going to bed. Need to work on my free skate tomorrow.”

The other two men mutely concurred.

Out of the blue, Chris suddenly asked: “So, is it going to be Katsuki, Nikiforov, or some combination of both?”

He was met with blank faces.

“When you get married,” he clarified.

“Katsuki-Nikiforov, I think,” Victor said.

“Goodnight, then, Mr. and Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov,” he said, eyes twinkling.

“Goodnight,” they replied in unison.

They went their separate ways, Chris to the guest bedroom and Victor and Yuuri to the master.

They had an ensuite, large enough to allow them went about their standard routine in harmony, undressing and redressing and going about their nightly ablutions. The familiarity was calming.

“It really was an excellent evening,” Yuuri reiterated. “Remind me to thank Lilia.”

“Of course,” he promised, toweling his face dry. He flopped into their bed. “It helped that we had good company, I think.”

“I agree.” Yuuri pulled on his pyjama trousers and closed the bathroom door. “What are we going to do tomorrow?”

“No idea.” Victor said, relaxing against the pillows.

“He’s a guest. We should probably try to do something he’ll like.” Yuuri lifted the duvet and laid down beside him.

“Don’t worry,” Victor said, drawing Yuuri towards him and kissing him gently. “I’m sure we’ll find something.”


End file.
